


Jimmy Jab Games: Girls versus Boys Edition

by callievalpoli



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2831780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callievalpoli/pseuds/callievalpoli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let the games begin!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jimmy Jab Games: Girls versus Boys Edition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuburbanSun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuburbanSun/gifts).



> For SuburbanSun.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Okay, guys. Holt’s gonna be gone for the next hour and a half.” Peralta says.

“Wait,” Amy says. “How could you possibly know how long Holt will be gone?”

“Because,” Peralta says, spinning around on his rolly-chair to face her, “I called the optometrist to find out exactly how long his appointment would take. And _then_ , I mapped out his journey using the fastest way possible. Which is, by the way, horse drawn carriage.”

“Aw, horses,” Amy feels herself saying in just about the same breath as Gina.

Peralta looks at the two of them in confusion for a second and then he’s saying, “Well, I guess it’s now confirmed that you girls are never too old for My Little Ponies. Am I right?”

From across the room, Boyle says, “You’re right, Jakey.”

“Yeah I am. Self-high-five.” Peralta slaps his own hands together in the weirdest not-clap she’s ever seen.

“Peralta, get on with it,” Rosa says, arms crossed.

“Right. So. Since Captain Holt will be gone for the next hour and—“ he bends to check his watch, which looks like it has cartoon characters on it—“twenty-seven minutes… _And_ since Sarge is on his second honeymoon in Michigan… It is now. Time. For the Jimmy Jab games! Boys versus girls edition.” 

Peralta and Boyle both make as much noise as possible, stomping their feet and clapping their hands and Boyle keeps shouting something that sounds like ‘huzzah.’ Almost against her will, Amy finds herself chanting along, “Jimmy Jabs,” over and over again.

*

The whiteboard has a picture of each of them tacked up, Gina, Rosa and herself on one side, and Boyle, Peralta and Hitchcock on the other. Scully sits by the board with a dry erase marker in one hand and a donut in the other.

Peralta says, “Since this version of Jimmy Jab games includes Gina, Scully’s gonna be our referee. Right Scully?”

“Right, Jake,” Scully says.

“Gina and I pooled our resources on this run of the Jimmy Jab games,” Jake says.

“Making it the best Jimmy Jab games _ever_ ,” Gina says, folding her hands outward like some weird hand model or something.

“And remind me, Gina, what are we playing for this time?” Peralta asks, forehead wrinkled in faux confusion.

Gina sighs heavily. “Rights to my no-longer-secret bathroom, Babylon.”

Jake plasters a huge, manic grin on his face. “That’s right. Whoever wins this run of the Jimmy Jab games gets to use the only decent bathroom in the precinct, Babylon. We will finally determine once and for all whether it’s a lady’s room or a men’s room.”

Amy _wants_ this bathroom. 

“This round of the Jimmy Jab games is a ‘murder mystery’ version, a la clue or some other not _lame_ mystery series,” Gina says.

“My personal favorite is Miss Marple. She always gets her guy, and she wears all those cute hats doing it,” Boyle says.

“And that’s why your ex-wife is your ex-wife,” Gina says. She dramatically brushes her hair over her eyes and says, “Anyway. Two _murders_ have been committed here today. Jake and I have each hidden clues for one crime. Ladies, we’re trying to solve the murder Jake has made up. Gentlemen, you will _try_ to figure out the artistry of a murder _I_ have created. Whichever team comes up with the body, the murder weapon, the murderer, and the motive for the murder first wins the Jimmy Jab games, and thus privilege to the _only_ bathroom in the precinct.”

“Which we’re gonna win. Right Boyle?” Peralta says.

“Right Jakey,” Boyle says. “Hip-check.” They bump hips in front of Jake’s desk, smiling manically all the while.

“Guys. You gonna let me in on this action?” Hitchcock says, somehow not wearing a shirt.

“Ugh, no. Why? Why are you naked?” Peralta says.

“You need to be bare-chested to chest-bump,” Hitchcock says.

“Ugh. No you don’t. Also, we’re not bumping chests. I don’t do that with anyone other than Sarge.” Peralta smiles. “It makes me feel _manly_.”

Gina stares at all the guys for a minute with her eyebrow raised in mockery and then she says, “All right, ladies, in the break room. We have a fail proof plan to make. Opening bell in ten minutes.” She waves around the timer on her phone, counting down from ten minutes. “Detecting will commence then.”

The door shuts behind them, and Rosa says, “We have this in the bag.”

Amy feels her face scrunch up in uncertainty. “I don’t know. Peralta always wins the Jimmy Jab games.”

“Also, he’s sneaky. Like a fox,” Gina says, making fake ears with her fingers. “Luckily, I’ve known this fox since elementary school. We shouldn’t have any problems following the trail of chicken feathers to his den.”

“That was disturbingly descriptive,” Rosa says.

“What can I say. I know how to speak in ways that make your mind actually visualize what I’m saying,” Gina says.

“Wow,” Amy says, staring at her. “I never realized that before, but it’s actually true.”

“My talents are many and varied,” Gina says.

“Speaking of your talents,” Rosa says, “what kind of murder did you commit?”

“Death by broken heart,” Gina says.

“Gina,” Rosa says, balling up her fists in pre-fight mode.

“Gina, I don’t think that counts,” Amy says. “And I, for one, do not want the men to get sole control of the only decent bathroom in the precinct. I’m just going to go tell them we’re postponing.”

“Um, excuse me? We’re not folding like that,” Gina says. “Also, I think you might have misunderstood me. When I said death by broken heart, I meant a broken and bloody heel shoved through the heart.”

“Oh,” Amy says, nodding. “Well, in that case—“ She cuts herself off, turning to look at Gina again. “Wait, what was the motive?” 

“The body’s girlfriend caught him sleeping with the gardener,” Gina says, holding her hands out. “What can I say, the course of true love never did run smooth.”

“Especially when one of them is a corpse,” Rosa says.

“Exactly,” Gina says.

“Enough small-talk. Gina, you know Peralta. What’s his modus operandi?” Rosa asks.

“Well, funny you should ask,” Gina says. “As a small boy, Jake was obsessed with spy movies. He also is really overly invested in the Diehard movies, or as he calls them, the quartet of perfection. We need to check the ceiling tiles. Rosa, I vote for you. You’re the lightest weight of the three of us. I obviously have more of an hourglass figure. And Amy has that whole—“ she gestures at Amy’s body and scrunches her mouth—“thing going on.”

“No way. I’m not climbing in the ceiling tiles. My leather jacket weighs more than the two of you combined.” Rosa crosses her arms over her chest.

“Now, that can’t be true,” Amy says. 

Rosa takes her jacket off and throws it at her.

“Oh my god. How is it this heavy?” Amy drops the jacket.

“Okay, so just lose the jacket,” Gina says.

“What did you say?” Rosa says, voice pissed off.

“I _meant_ just carefully lock your jacket up in evidence,” Gina says.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been at work without it,” Rosa says. “I feel, like, naked or something. Do I look more approachable?” She has her fists balled up, and both a knife and a gun completely visible.

“Nope. I can honestly say you don’t,” Amy says.

“Good,” Rosa says. “Okay, fine. I’ll do your stupid climb through the ceiling tiles thing. If—Santiago checks the toilet tanks—“

“All of them?” Amy says.

“And Gina checks the garbage cans,” Rosa says.

“I’m sorry. Do these look like the nails of a garbage collector to you?” Gina says.

“Okay, fine. Then I’m not crawling up in the stupid ceiling,” Rosa says.

Amy’s about to try and mediate when suddenly Gina’s voice starts blaring from someplace other than her mouth, “Ten, nine, eight—“

“Is that the countdown?” Amy asks.

“Six, five—“ Gina’s voice says from her back pocket, while Gina says, “Oh my god, yes.”

The three of them stare at each other for a second, and then Rosa says, “Okay, just do the assignments we talked about,” as Gina’s voice says, “three, two, wonanza.”

The three of them run for the door.

*

Fifteen minutes later, Amy is sprinting past Scully who’s snoring into an open brief and Peralta who’s, for some reason, sitting at his desk, talking to Boyle on a walkie-talkie. “Cut the red wire. No. The _red_ one.” There’s a loud noise from the walkie-talkie’s speaker.

She throws the door to the conference room open and spins in, only to see Rosa and Gina with dejected looking faces.

“Wait, neither of you found anything either?” Amy says.

“Well, I found a new way to take nail polish off.” Gina shows off her now stripped nails. “Hint, it’s not through nail polish remover or filing. It’s through whatever was in the trash in the break room. It might have been rubbing alcohol.”

“Oh, it was,” Amy says. “Hitchcock was trying to make office hooch. I tried to explain that there’s a difference between alcohol and rubbing alcohol, but he seemed to lose interest. At least he threw it out. I thought it would be unhealthy having an open bucket with rubbing alcohol just sitting there exposed.”

“Hold up. That bucket wasn’t a garbage can?” Gina shudders all over. “You mean I checked a possibly toxic container I didn’t even need to check?”

“What about you Rosa? Did you find anything?” Amy says.

“Nothing.” Rosa flips something shiny in the air and catches it again. “Unless you count this fork. It was in the ceiling right over the bullpen. Probably left over from Scully’s stash of food.” She sniffs the fork. “Ugh. I think there’s jelly on it.”

“Well, there’s officially no murder weapon in the toilet tanks. I even checked Babylon, to be on the safe side.” Amy looks from Gina to Rosa then back to Gina. “Anyone have any other ideas?”

“What about Holt’s office?” Rosa says. “Peralta seems oddly fixated on it. And he’s certainly had enough time to scout around in there and find decent hiding places.”

“Or,” Gina says, “the supply closet. I can totally see Jake hiding his murder weapon amidst all the weird cleaning products and brushes in there.”

“What about the interrogation room?” Amy says. “I mean, Peralta really loves to question criminals. He could have the body hidden in there, at least.”

“Or the motive,” Gina says. 

Amy shares a confused look with Rosa, and then she says, “How could the motive be _in_ the interrogation room.”

“He could have it taped to the underside of the desk,” Gina says.

“Right,” Amy says. “Well, I think we all know where we’re going. Good luck!”

And they sprint out the door once more.

*

Twenty minutes later and Amy is walking past Scully and Peralta again. This time Scully is eating some kind of sandwich that is easily the size of her head, and Peralta… is still at his desk, still on his walkie-talkie. “Good job Charles. Go team boybandsome.”

“What about me, Jake? Did I do a good job too?” Hitchcock’s voice asks.

“No. You’re horrible. You set this investigation back hours and hours,” Peralta says.

“Jake, it’s only been forty minutes,” Boyle’s voice says.

“Fine. Hitchcock, you set the investigation back forty minutes. And Boyle, you’re no longer the number two member of boybandsome,” Peralta says.

“Wait, does that mean I’m the number two member?” Hitchcock’s voice asks.

“As if,” Peralta says. “You’re, like, the _last_ member. No. Sarge is the number two member.”

“Sarge isn’t even here,” Boyle’s voice says.

“Sarge is here in spirit. Which is more than I can say for either of you. Peralta out.”

“What are you even doing?” Amy asks. “You haven’t done anything yet.”

“Oh, you think so, do you? I’ve done everything, Amy. Right here from my secret headquarters, I’ve been one step ahead of you the whole time. Just you wait, Amy Santiago. Just you wait. Ah ha ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha. Ha ha. Ha.” 

Amy waits for his ridiculous evil laugh to trail off before she snorts and says, “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

She opens the conference room door. “Tell me you have good news.”

“Nothing,” Rosa says.

“Absolutely nothing,” Gina says. “I thought I found a murder weapon for a second, but when I image searched it on my phone, it was actually a ‘duster’.” She makes air quotes. “Like anyone uses those outside of the nineteen fifties.”

“I use a duster. Daily,” Amy says.

Rosa and Gina snort in unison.

“What about the interrogation room?” Rosa asks.

“There was absolutely nothing there. I even checked under the desk, like Gina said, and nothing,” Amy says.

They all just stare at each other for a minute, when suddenly from the bullpen, ‘We Are the Champions’ starts blaring.

“Are you kidding me?” Rosa says, kicking a chair hard enough to break a handle off. “This is crap!”

*

In the bullpen, Hitchcock and Boyle are suspending the corpselike body of— “Wait. Is that Boyle’s father?” Amy says.

“Yep, sure is,” Peralta says, from his desk chair.

There’s a gory looking stain on the front of Boyle’s father’s shirt, dripping down to the floor.

“Jeez, Gina. Did you need to make him so bloody?” Rosa asks.

Gina raises her eyebrow, and says, “Well, duh, little brain. Do you know how much blood leaves the body from a chest wound?”

“And this,” Peralta says, flourishing a hand at Boyle, who whips out an equally bloody red high heel, “is the murder weapon.”

“Kudos, gentlemen. But this is only half of the battle, and I think we all know it’s the easy half. The question is, who committed the murder, and why?” Gina says.

“Easy,” Peralta says, with a shrug. “Gina’s mother obviously caught him cheating on her and killed him in a fit of rage.” Peralta smiles his massive, shit-eating grin and says, “Babylon is ours. And the first order of business is renaming it. I’m thinking, the super fun-time bathroom.”

Rosa growls.

Gina throws up a hand in halt. “Nice try, Jake, but I think you’ll find you’re missing one key part of the motive. Who, exactly, was Boyle’s father cheating with?”

“You can’t be serious,” Peralta says, folding his arms on the top of his desk.

“I don’t know. Does this look like my serious face,” Gina says, puffing her lips out, sort of like a fish.

Peralta stares at her for a second, then he groans in irritation. “Scully, does her motive have down who Boyle’s father was sleeping with?”

“Yup, it does,” Scully says. “It’s underlined twice.”

“Groan,” Peralta says. “Okay, who would Boyle’s father sleep with? Who would Boyle’s father sleep with?”

“Um,” Boyle says, holding his hand up.

“Wait,” Peralta says, “I’ve got it! It’s the shoe saleswoman! Charles’s father is cheating on Gina’s mother with his shoe saleswoman.”

There’s a cleared throat from behind Boyle and everyone turns to see a slightly older woman standing near the entrance to the bullpen staring at them. 

“Mom!” Gina says, eyes widening in faux horror. “I am _so sorry_ you had to hear that.”

“I am too,” Gina’s mom says.

“Did you seriously set this up just to try and break up your mother and Boyle’s father?” Amy says under her breath to Gina.

“Sure did,” Gina whispers back.

“I can’t believe,” Gina’s mom continues, “Jake would do such poor investigative work. Lynn would never cheat on me with a shoe salesperson. He has a strong aversion to feet.”

Boyle’s father suddenly de-corpifies himself with a shudder and says, “She is so right. Aren’t you my little snooky wooky wookums?”

“Sure am, my little sugar pie with syrup on top,” Gina’s mother says, giving Boyle’s father a kiss.

“Wait. You knew?” Gina says.

“Of course I knew,” Gina’s mother says. “Lynn and I are going to be married. We don’t keep secrets from each other. Now do we, my lovebird?”

“Of course not my dearie wearie,” Boyle’s father says. 

“Ugh, people-in-love talk,” Peralta says. “So, if it wasn’t the shoe saleswoman, then it was—“

“Ah, ah, ah,” Boyle says. “I think the rules clearly state that if the first guess was incorrect, the other team has a shot at guessing before the original team gets a second chance.”

“Seriously, Charles,” Peralta says.

“What?” Boyle asks.

“You’re just shooting us in the foot like this?” Peralta says.

“You should thank me,” Boyle says. “If I would have let you go on, you would have disqualified us. Also, if you would have listened to me before we would have won this already.”

Peralta turns and looks at Amy. “Pfft. It’s fine. They’ve got nothing. If they did, Amy have that look on her face like a barely restrained three-year-old who’s just visited the zoo for the first time, not the look like a three-year-old who was just told that Santa isn’t real.”

Amy swallows hard and says. “Oh, we know who the murderer is. We just weren’t showing our hand at first. Because of reasons.” She turns around and slams her forehead against her palm. “Because of reasons?” she mouths to herself.

Luckily, Gina has picked up her trash-talking slack. “We know where the body is hidden. And we don’t have to dig it up, because it isn’t even buried.”

“Yeah?” Boyle says.

“Yeah,” Rosa says.

“Well, good,” Peralta says. “Because you only have a minute to give us the full rundown.” And then he starts counting down from sixty, saying Mississippi between each number.

Internally Amy gives them a gold star for sucking so bad at trash talking, and then she’s thinking about trash, which didn’t have anything, and neither did anyplace else they looked. Stupid Peralta and his stupid boybandsome. He didn’t even need to get out of his desk to solve Gina’s crime.

He didn’t even need to get out of his desk.

For some reason, that phrase repeats itself over and over in her mind. Gina saying, “You should check under the desk,” Peralta sitting at the desk, Peralta with his arms against the desk, Peralta standing in front of the desk.

Peralta’s on ‘five Mississippi’ when Amy tugs his desk chair back as hard as she can. “Hey, wait,” Peralta says.

Amy’s about to answer when she sees what’s under Peralta’s desk. “Mlepnos?”

“Hello,” Mlepnos says.

Amy’s eyes run over Mlepnos’s sweater-covered body, cataloguing any change in appearance. She catches something funny on the side of his neck and turns his head. “Rosa. Fork,” she says.

Rosa throws the fork straight at her. It almost seems to go in slow motion for the last half second, and then she’s catching it, and turning to Peralta. “Your victim is Mlepnos. He was killed with this fork.” She holds the fork out.

Mlepnos says, “Thank you,” and takes the fork.

“Great job, you guys,” Peralta says with heaps of sarcasm. “You got the body and the weapon. But you still need murderer and motive. Sorry, but it looks like it’s back to our turn to guess again. Charles—“

“The murderer,” Gina says in a shout, “was obviously Charles. He killed Mlepnos in a jealous rage when he heard how close the two of you have become.”

“Close, but no bubblegum cigar,” Peralta says. “You’re still missing one key ingredient for the motive.”

“Dancing,” Rosa says. “Boyle’s been trying to take you ballroom dancing for years. He heard you started dance nights with Mlepnos and offed him.”

Scully turns to Peralta and says, “Sorry Jake, but I think they won.”

Peralta, slides on his rolly-chair over to peer over Scully’s shoulder. “What about this? None of them ever said the word it’s. Right?”

“Face it, Jake. We won, fair and square. Babylon hath fallen, but then it hath risen again. All hail Babylon!” Gina throws her hands in the air.

Amy smiles quietly to herself. She could brag about winning this one, but she won’t. Babylon is reward enough.

Well maybe just one little victory dance. 

*

A week later, Holt stops Amy on her way past his office. “Detective Santiago. I don’t usually give personal compliments, but I have to say, your skin is glowing. May I ask what caused this change? Might it be a new workout routine? Or perhaps a change of diet?”

Amy thinks fondly of the facial peel she now is able to keep at work without worrying about Scully trying to eat it. “Thank you Captain. But really, I have to say it’s just Babylon that’s making all the difference.” She hears Jake groan from his desk and her smile grows a half-inch larger.


End file.
